


Little Bitty Pretty One

by asmodesgold



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:57:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9564032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asmodesgold/pseuds/asmodesgold
Summary: His mom always said his sweet tooth would get him in trouble one of these days.





	1. Little Bitty Pretty One

**Author's Note:**

> For my beta: booyahkendell.
> 
> Inspired by The Pic (shown below) tweeted by Raúl on January 18th. Cause, yeah, that's how long it takes me to write fics.
> 
> I do have at least one more chapter already in the works, but it could be awhile yet before it gets finished.

 

It’s six thirty-seven pm, and the witness is late. An hour and thirty-seven minutes late, to be exact. Normally Rafael would've been past his ‘this witness is doing us a service, let's allow them some leeway, traffic might be backed up” stage and into ‘I’ve almost done all the extra work I’d brought now I’m going to start getting antsy, thinking about all the work I could be getting done back at the office’, but a certain blonde detective had just shown up with what he called homemade Nanaimo bars. Initially he’d been wary about Sonny’s cooking (one look at that mustache when they’d first met and he knew the man had, at the very least, questionable  _ fashion  _ taste) but the second time he’d shared some of the lunch he’d brought from home Rafael’s trust in his culinary skills were cemented. And, really, Pavlov’s bell had nothing on the way the sight of Sonny made his mouth water, at first just for food, then…

 

The Nanaimo bars do not disappoint, but even something this delicious can’t seem to stop his mouth from running away from him.

 

“Did you really make a whole plate just for me?”

 

Sonny half-grins and shrugs.

 

“The rest of the squad didn’t really like ‘em. Too sweet, they said.”

 

“Well, then lucky for you I have a weak spot for sweet things,” Rafael says, already selecting a third. He swears he sees something of a blush on Sonny’s face but it’s quickly chased away by a beaming smile as Sonny nibbles on his own. 

 

“Hey, isn’t Yolinski supposed to have been here already?”

 

Rafael scowls around his fourth bar.

 

“An hour and,” he checks his watch. “Forty-five minutes ago.”

 

“Ah, well, if ya want I can wait with you.”

 

“That’s a generous offer Carisi but I’ve still got some things left to do and I’m afraid I won’t be much company.”

 

“Tch,” Sonny waves him off, settling into a chair at the defense’s table and pulling out his cell phone. “I’ve got a book on here I’ve been wanting to read anyways. Well,  _ Teresa’s  _ been wanting me to read it but I swear to God it better not be like the last one cause I was ready to stage an intervention for her over that one I mean, it would explain some of the men she dated but  _ sheesh. _ ”

 

Just as he’s about to ask Sonny if he’s actually planning on reading or just talking about reading the other man goes quiet and begins messing around on his phone. Another excuse to be left alone doesn’t come to him so Rafael sits down at the prosecution’s table and begins leafing through the folders in his briefcase, watching Sonny out of the corner of his eye settle in, long legs stretched out underneath the table.

 

Rafael quickly brings all of his focus back to his work. Still, he can’t help but wonder if the other man truly had that little going on that he had time to do nothing but sit in a courthouse after hours, quietly reading while the room’s only other occupant completely ignores him. Didn’t he have any friends to go socialize with? He knows that Sonny is a family man, with a large family to boot, wouldn’t he rather see any of them? Himself, his job is his only friend, and his mother his only family. And only one of those needed him tonight.

 

The minutes tick by until Rafael slips the last folder back into his briefcase, setting the whole thing on the floor. It’s at this point that he realizes the room has been quiet the entire fifty minutes he was working. He glances over at Sonny, still quietly reading something off his phone.

 

“I’m pleasantly surprised.”

 

Sonny glances up at him in confusion.

 

“About what? That he’s not here yet?”

 

“No,” Rafael smirks and leans back in the chair, kicking up his feet, showing off the light blue socks that perfectly match his tie. “That you’re capable of going this long without saying anything.”

 

“Oh, ha ha,” Sonny says flatly, though Rafael can see mirth in his eyes. “You know what I’m surprised about?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“That you’d gone that long without being a sarcastic ass.”

 

Rafael smirks at him again, Sonny returning it with a dimply grin.

 

Rafael’s watch lets out a single chime and he checks it, groaning when he sees that the bartender is now late by nearly three hours. 

 

“How long will you wait for this guy to show up?” Sonny asks.

 

He shrugs, letting the chair fall back on all four legs as he swings his own to the floor. He turns towards the back of the courtroom and hops up onto the table, setting his feet in the seat below him as he glares at the door, tossing his phone from hand to hand.

 

“I can’t allow him to take the stand unprepared for what the defense will throw at him. He seems the type to be easily confused, which would probably explain his tardiness.”

 

Sonny stands, pocketing his phone. He crosses the short distance and leans against the edge of the table close to Rafael.

 

“Don’t worry, counselor,” he says, bumping his elbow against Rafael’s arm. “I’ll stay and keep him from driving you too crazy.”

 

Rafael hums in agreement.

 

“I will need someone who speaks the language of incompetence.”

 

Sonny mock glares at him, reaching behind them to snag the now half empty plate of treats.

 

“Keep talking like that and I’ll have to leave and take these with me.”

 

“Hey, I have nothing but respect for those who are bilingual!”

 

“Why do I have a feeling that was you complimenting yourself more than me?” Sonny raises an eyebrow at him but sets the plate back down anyways.

 

Rafael grins, snagging one of the Nanaimo bars.

 

“Speaking of incompetence,” Sonny says. “Have I ever told you about the time I had to make these for Teresa’s Home Ec class?”

 

He shakes his head, and Sonny launches into a tale of older sisters who didn’t know flour from sugar and nearly singed their eyebrows off while attempting to make brownies.

 

As he sits there, snacking on the best damn thing he’s had in his mouth all day, his mind wanders and soon he’s only half-listening to Sonny, as the sight of him is almost more entrancing than the yarn he’s spinning. Sonny is a very physical talker, completely incapable of speaking without wild gestures and he swears Sonny puts every muscle in his face to work, and those green? Blue? He’s yet to come up with a name for the color in the eyes that always shine with passion, love, sometimes anger. He’s...Rafael realizes with a start that just watching him talk has made his own face break out into a genuine smile. He realizes how little  _ space _ there is between them; he can almost feel the heat coming from the other man. Anyone else Rafael would’ve immediately moved to put distance between them, without even having to think about it. Why hasn’t he done so with him?

 

Rafael will blame the sugar high from those delicious little squares Sonny brought him, he’ll blame them for how warm his head feels, for how he can’t seem to think straight, can’t seem to think of anything other than how sweet this man is.

 

Well, his mom always said his sweet tooth would get him in trouble one of these days.

 

“So my mom said that as long as Teresa agreed to help I could help her with her Home Ec work which really meant I’d be doing most of the work while Teresa passed me ing-”

 

Rafael reaches up his hand to rest it against Sonny’s cheek, stopping him in mid-sentence. He carefully watches for any signs of resistance and when he doesn’t find any he pulls the taller man in for a chaste kiss. It’s just a pressing of lips against lips, but it feels so good that Rafael has to fight himself in order to pull away. 

 

Sonny’s eyes stay closed for a few seconds longer, his mouth still in a small ‘o’. He blinks, then his face splits into a wide grin and he closes the distance between them again.

 

The kiss turns passionate and demanding, and Rafael drops his hand from where it had been cupping Sonny’s cheek to the dip in his lower back using it to bring him in even closer. As their bodies begin heating up to almost unbearable levels, Rafael unceremoniously rips Sonny’s suit jacket off him, tossing it over the banister, all without breaking their mouths apart. He resettles his right hand over where that sweet little bubble butt (that he’d be loathed to admit had unwillingly caught his eye more than once, especially once the detective had started dressing in proper fitting suits with those tight vests that perfectly accentuated it) starts, his left hand boldly grabbing a handful of said ass, moaning into Sonny’s mouth when he discovers that it is indeed as taut as it looks. Sonny moans with him, his own fingers gripping at the back of Rafael’s neck and shoulders.

 

The rush of pure pleasure at having him in his arms overrides his desire to maintain some level of control and not rut like teenagers, at his place of work, no less. All he can think is this feels far better than it has any right to, and he knows it would feel even better if they could just get rid of the remaining space between them so he puts more pressure on Sonny’s back and ass, tugging him so close that the detective has no choice but to straddle his right leg as their torsos finally connect.

 

Sonny doesn’t seem to mind at all, in fact, he sits on Rafael’s leg and begins grinding against it. A thrill runs up Rafael’s spine at the hardness he can feel rubbing against him. Their fingers grip tighter at each other and his right-hand creeps towards Sonny’s waist, intent on assisting and guiding his movements, when the sound of a creak breaks through their heavy breathing in the otherwise quiet room.

 

In a flash they’ve broken apart, straightening clothes and hair, putting a respectable amount of distance between them.

 

The witness, however, is just as disheveled and out of it, and doesn't notice anything odd about what he’d just walked into. Rafael immediately sets about prepping him, instructing him to sit in the witness box as he begins going over questions that both sides will be asking him. He’s able to put their earlier indiscretion to the side in favor of his work, but every time he turns away from the witness he sees Sonny is not as put together, though he’s clearly trying.

 

For starters, he hasn’t realized that he didn’t put his jacket back on and it’s still draped where Rafael had tossed it, or that his tie is pushing up from behind his vest. Then there's the fact that every so often Rafael catches him flat out staring at him with this dreamy, moon-eyed expression that no one’s ever given him and he doesn't know what to do with, so he sends him a look that clearly says ‘I know what you're thinking of can you please calm down we can make out  _ later.’  _ It’s effective, Sonny returning to the task of taking notes-ever the dutiful student even after graduating-in a binder that he apparently hasn’t realized isn’t his. But a few minutes will pass and Sonny will look up and inevitably glance towards him and the whole mess will start again.

 

Thankfully, the bartender proves to not be  _ totally _ useless, so they’re able to wrap it up in under forty-five minutes with Rafael giving him a subtle jab about showing up on time tomorrow.

 

Then they’re alone again.

 

Sonny stands and fumbles around, making random comments about the impending trial and apologizing for writing on Rafael’s notepad (which Rafael is disappointed to find is filled with actual, pertinent notes and observations and not hearts and ‘Mr. Sonny Barba’), not meeting his eyes as he shrugs on his rumpled suit jacket and finally fixes his clothing.

 

It is, in a word, adorable. All at once his mind is recalling the sensory memory of he and Sonny locked in passionate embrace, and the next thing he knows he’s got the detective practically sprawled on the table, limbs and tongues tangled hopelessly together. When they come up for air Sonny glances to the side at the mess that’s fallen to the floor.

 

“I knocked over the Nanaimo bars,” Sonny says, sounding actually remorseful.

 

“Hm,” Rafael considers the destroyed treats. “Guess you’re going to have to give my mouth something else to do tonight.” He leans back in and begins mouthing at Sonny’s long neck.

 

“Ok, wow, you are  _ good  _ at pillow talk.”

 

Try as he might, Rafael can’t help but laugh even as he instructs “Carisi, shush.” Sonny begins laughing as well, and the mood is broken. They stay wrapped together for a moment longer, Rafael smirking up at happy, relaxed Sonny who’s holding them both up with his elbows on the table. 

 

“What am I going to do with you?” Rafael murmurs.

 

Sonny’s smile turns cheeky and he sits up so he can wrap his arms around Rafe’s neck, lean in close and say “take me home?”

 

Rafael straightens and grins back, patting Sonny’s ass.

 

“Dinner first; I skipped lunch. I know a place that’ll give us a more private booth.”

 

And there’s that look again; the look that Rafael’s only ever seen a handful of times in real life and never directed at him. A look that he’s afraid to try to analyze and categorize until he’s sure that it’s going to stick around. Idly he marvels that someone can be so open and honest with their emotions, so quick to give himself to another person.

 

“You’re going to make me have to report this to the DA, aren’t you?” 

 

The words are spoken softly, and he belatedly realizes they’ve come from him. Sonny’s eyebrows have knit together and his mouth drawn into a line, and Rafael knows he’s well and truly fucked for how enticing he finds Sonny, even in a state of confusion.

 

But Sonny hadn’t made detective by being slow to put the pieces together; realization morphs his face back into one of pure joy that draws Rafael in like a moth to a flame for another fiery kiss.

  
“C’mon,” Rafe says, stepping away but pulling Sonny after him by a belt loop. “You've reminded me that I’m starving.”


	2. How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to add to this! Hopefully, the next chapter won't take as long but it's just been crazy around here with my furnace dying, selling my car, getting another one, doing work on that one, working, gah...
> 
> As always, I couldn't do it without my wonderful beta, booyahkendell!

“You know, you don’t ever see restaurants on the third floor of an apartment building.”

 

“Well, Brooklyn was always on the cutting edge,” Rafael grins as he unlocks the door to his apartment. He pulls the door back to allow Sonny in, then shuts it and firmly re-locks it, checking both deadbolts twice before being satisfied that the apartment is secure. Sonny watches him do this, but thankfully doesn’t make a comment on it. 

 

“Please take your shoes off,” he says, sitting down on his bench to do just that, neatly tucking them into their cubby in the hall closet.

 

Sonny silently acquiesces, toeing his shoes off with the laces still tied. The air is thick with unspoken worry and tension with the reminder of the death threats Rafael’s still getting, and Rafael searches for a way to get back to the levity they had just moments ago. Thankfully, Sonny doesn’t disappoint when it comes to thinking of something to say.

 

“So, is this a cultural thing or - ?”

 

Rafael unbuttons his suit jacket and goes to hang it in his bedroom’s closet.

 

“The shoes?” he asks over his shoulder.

 

“Yeah.” Sonny is shrugging out of his own suit when Rafael, sans vest and tie, returns.

 

“More of a, ‘I once brought something into the apartment that I didn’t find until I was walking barefoot to the kitchen for a drink at three A.M.’” 

 

He begins rolling up his sleeves as he walks the short distance to the kitchen area. “Do you have any food allergies?”

 

“Thankfully, no, though I’m not always fond of mushrooms, though it depends on what they’re in.” 

 

Rafael pauses, smirking at him over his shoulder.

 

“Oh, c’mon, that wasn’t even that dirty,” Sonny says, trying to scowl but failing to move his lips from a mirroring smirk.

 

“I didn’t say anything.” He opens the fridge, looking for…“How does shrimp scampi sound?”

 

Sonny whistles.

 

“You weren’t kidding about cooking us something.”

 

“What did you think I meant?” He tosses the shrimp onto the counter and begins rooting through his cupboards for the rest of the ingredients.

 

“I dunno, I figured maybe you were just going to reheat some takeout or something, which I would’ve been good with. You don’t have to go through all this for me. I can help, too, if you want.”

 

“I was already planning on making this tonight anyways,” Rafael assures him, setting the orzo next to the shrimp and spices.

 

Sonny settles into one of the bar stools.

 

“It must’ve been fate, then,” he says, kicking his feet up onto the rungs of another chair.

 

“What, that I was planning on having quick, easy Italian tonight?” Rafael winces. He knows that his tongue has been an instrumental part in the ending of the few relationships he’s had, but he can’t seem to control it.

 

An apology is on the tip of his tongue when laughter rings throughout the kitchen.

 

“I walked into that one, didn’t I?” Sonny says, rising from his chair and padding over. He wraps his arms around Rafael from behind, settling his hands around his stomach. “I guess I’ll have to make sure to invite you over when I’m planning on making spicy Cuban.”

 

Rafael scoffs at him as he moves the shrimp around in the pan.

 

“I’m not positive what you imagine Cuban food to be, but I don’t think you’d like the actual thing.”

 

The arms encircling him give him a firm squeeze.

 

“I think I will, if given the chance.”

 

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he breaks free from Sonny to transfer the shrimp to a plate, grabbing more butter and the garlic.

 

“Dinner will be ready in a minute.”

 

“Smells great,” Sonny says, going to resettle into his chair.

 

“Well, I may not be as culinarily proficient as SVU’s own Renaissance man, but I do pretty well with this dish.”

 

In no time, they have two plates full of lemon pepper shrimp scampi on orzo steaming on the kitchen bar.

 

“Wine?”

 

“Sure,” Sonny gives his food an appreciative sniff as Rafael pours them each a glass of Pinot Grigio.

 

They say grace and dig in, elbows bumping sporadically as they eat. It's Sonny who breaks the silence first, with a long, low moan.

 

“This is so good! You're a great cook!”

 

“...You saw how simple it was to make.”

 

“Yeah but food doesn't have to have all these complex steps and expensive ingredients and take all day to be good. People think it does, but sometimes the best dishes are just a couple thing thrown together in a few minutes. Quick and simple can be just as filling as rich and decadent. I mean, if it's good, it's good, ya know?”

 

“Yes, Sonny,” Rafael says, eyeing him critically over the rim of his glass. “I think I do.”

 

“And anyways, this is really delicious, so who cares how quick and easy it was? I love it,” and as if to prove his point, Sonny shoves another forkful into his mouth, smiling around the bulge in his cheek.

 

For the second time that night, Rafael’s thinking to himself that grown men in their thirties have no right to be this freaking  _ adorable _ , but here’s Sonny, in his kitchen, happily chowing down on Rafael’s food.

 

“You gonna eat, counselor?”

 

Rafael blinks and realizes he’s been staring at the other man like a creep, but the twinkle in Sonny’s eye says he doesn’t mind. They continue their meal in comfortable silence that’s broken only by Sonny’s random repeated praise for Rafael’s cooking. 

 

As the food disappears from his plate, Rafael discovers that he’s served dinner on his abuelita’s old china that his mother had given him as they’d packed up her apartment. He didn’t have room for them and his own dishes, but there really hadn’t been much of a decision to make there, and he’d boxed up and donated his old set.

 

He spears his last shrimp, tossing it into his mouth and rising, taking both of their plates to the sink to be rinsed. They’re white with simple blue flowers on them, and there are a few that are clearly not from the same set, but his abuelita had nevertheless been very proud of them. 

 

Idly he wonders what she’d say about Sonny. He’d never taken any past partners to see her, let alone a man.

 

His glasses gently clink as Sonny sets them down next to the sink. He places a hand on Rafael’s arm and squeezes.

 

“Are you alright, Rafael?”

 

The name sounds foreign coming from Sonny, but not terrible, so he dismisses the thought easily.

 

“Yes, just thinking of my abuelita,” he says, shutting off the water and placing the plates gingerly in the other side of the sink. “These were hers.”

 

Sonny seems to catch onto his wording quickly.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says, with genuine sympathy.

 

Rafael nods, blinking rapidly.

 

“It’s been two years but…”

 

Sonny squeezes his arm again.

 

“She must’ve been an amazing person.”   
  


“She was,” Rafael says with conviction. He blinks again, letting out a barking laugh. “I’ve gone and ruined the mood now, haven’t I?”

 

The hand gripping him tugs, pulling him into a warm, solid body that envelopes him in an embrace.

  
“Not at all,” Sonny says into his temple. Rafael feels him press a kiss there, and he sighs, melting into Sonny’s arms. 

 

Somehow they make it to the bedroom, clothes lost somewhere along the way.

 

They make love. 

 

That’s the only way Rafael can describe it. It’s not hurried, though there’s hints of desperation in Sonny’s eyes, in the roll of Sonny’s hips. But Sonny reaches up to kiss his eyelids, his nose, his cheekbones, the space in between his brows, and Rafael digs his fingers and nails into Sonny’s hips, holding him firmly against himself.

 

“Sweetheart,” Rafael whispers into the space between his chin and jugular, planting a kiss there.

 

Sonny smiles so widely that Rafael half worries that his face will split in two. He tugs Rafael back up so he can kiss him proper, smiling through the kiss and even as it ends his smile doesn't.  

 

The obvious delight in Sonny's face, because of Rafael, makes him smile back at him. He's beautiful, Rafael thinks, then tells him so. Sonny flushes a deeper pink and Rafael watches as the color spreads down his neck and torso, marveling at how even his skin is so overtly expressive. 

 

He kisses him again, but with the two of them still smiling they can’t do it properly, and soon they’re devolving into unprompted laughter. 

 

The mood is ruined, but Rafael can’t bring himself to be upset over a missed orgasm when he’s got such a warm, happy, sweet man in his arms who clearly isn’t upset by the turn of events either.

 

He pulls out and flops to the side, sweat cooling on his skin. Sonny sighs and curls up at his side, keeping some space between their skin. 

 

He’s probably trying to not appear too clingy or needy, Rafael muses, though it’s really unnecessary, so he hooks an arm around his back and pulls him closer. Sonny immediately throws a leg and arm over him and tucks his head under his chin.

 

“Knew you’d be a cuddler,” Rafael teases.

 

“Knew you’d love it,” Sonny lazily replies.

 

The floppy, soft hair that Rafael buries his nose in smells like strawberries, and his dick gives a half-hearted jump as he tangles his fingers in it. As Sonny stretches up to smile at him and they begin leisurely kissing again, something warm blooms in Rafael’s chest; something that wishes this moment will never end, that he gets to spend the rest of his life tasting, smelling, and touching this lovely man half-laying on top of him. 

 

But the sensible part of him knows that it won’t, not the least because his bladder has started yelling at him. He excuses himself with an apology and a kiss, leaving to take care of business.

 

The sight that greets him on his return almost  _ hurts _ : Sonny’s drawn the top sheet over himself, just far enough to cover that delicious little ass, and he’s got a pillow tucked under his chest so he can prop himself up while looking at something on his phone.

 

“Still reading that book?”

 

Sonny smiles up at him as he climbs back into bed, joining him under the sheet. He hands the pillow to Rafael who puts it under his head while Sonny settles back over top of him.

 

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s surprisingly good.”

 

They’re laying there for a little bit, just quietly breathing each other in, Rafael watching him read. 

 

And then, those words are again falling unbidden out of his mouth into Sonny’s hair: “You’re going to make me report this to the DA.”

 

Except, this time, there's a tone of finality to it; his mind is already made up.

 

There’s a question in Sonny’s face as he turns away from his phone.

 

“Won’t it complicate things?” Sonny asks hesitatingly.

 

“If we want to keep seeing each other we’re going to have to disclose this,” Rafael says. “To everyone. I’m prepared to if you are. I think it’ll be worth it.” 

 

And he did, even with all the arguments from defense attorneys he could already hear playing out in his head.

 

“Alright,” Sonny says, smiling softly and sweetly at him, and leaning up to start kissing him just as softly and sweetly. “I’ll tell Liv on Monday after the trial.”

  
As they lay there, unhurriedly entwining themselves in each other, Rafael decides that his abuelita, though initially averse to the idea of him being with another man, would’ve quickly grown to love Sonny anyways; he knows he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anybody wants the recipe that inspired their dinner here it is: http://www.myrecipes.com/recipe/lemon-pepper-shrimp-scampi


End file.
